Excerpted from "History of the FBI in the Early 21st Century" by Edgar Sapko

The "Aesthetic" Era of FBI Leadership

The early 2020s were a period of turnover among FBI leadership which largely occured outside of the public eye. This change in focus was connected with the rapid rise of an agent known only as "Mr. Emerald." Although Emerald directly and indirectly commanded trillions of dollars worth of public assets, former agents insist on Emerald's "light touch" and saw his role as that of a "symbolic totem" representing a more horizontal form of agenthood. Emerald never accepted a title beyond "Agent" but would go on to appropriate the top two floors of the J. Edgar Hoover FBI Building on Washington D.C. for his personal offices as well as his extensive collection of antiques.

The J Edgar Hoover FBI Building in Washington D.C.The J Edgar Hoover FBI building after 2023 renovations overseen by Mr. Emerald. Note the Venetian loggia on the upper floors, nicknamed by agents the "Emerald Suites"

Described as "meek, yet disarmingly flamboyant when the occasion demanded it" Emerald was known for patiently observing inter-agent dynamics and methodically introducing forms of creative expression that would ease tension and promote synergistic behavior, which would not infrequently evolve into open expressions of intra-agency love and romance. Some of Emerald's early interventions, such as landscape painting excursions, are now common institutional practices. Other "Distinctly Emerald" moments seem to be singular in nature, such as his performance of an improvised spoken-word poem on top of the conference table at a particularly contentious meeting of FBI directors in 2013.

Emerald's early career is shrouded in mystery. Although he would frequently downplay his achievements to the point where it is sometimes difficult to see his "hand" in agency projects, his first widely acknowledged success involved redirecting in 2011 a portion of the existing budget for cultural development towards an emerging form of electronic music known as "Vaporwave." With the stated goal of "reviving a sense of nostalgia and interest in retail environments among the digital generation" Emerald staged a wide-ranging cultural intervention which would go on to profoundly affect the ways Americans view beauty and expression. Of course, this narrative of progress was even at the time called into question by cynics. Marxist critic Manny Dasco wrote in the Fall 2025 edition of Global Worker Quarterly:

The notion that the of the FBI as a neutral or even benevolent presence in aesthetics is a sign of a deep disconnect between so-called "leftist" spaces where this idea is prelevent and the actual concerns of the international subaltern. Cultural interventions by the FBI as they have come to light over the past decade amount to little more than an attempt by one of the most destructive institutions in American history to "rebrand" itself as a nonhierarchical organization of self-loathing aesthetes. Compared to the disappointments of public governance in the early part of the millenium it seems preferable to buy into the idea of a government agency molding itself in the image of an Opium-smoking Victorian aristocrat imprisoned a wildly decorative cage of his own design. This sort of short-sightedness is so pervasive in the modern discourse that it seems almost impossible for many to imagine the US government operating in terms of anything but aesthetically elevated motives. And that's just sad.

Mr. Emerald and the Teleopolis Project

The largest public works project undertaken by the FBI during Mr. Emerald's leadership was certainly the city-island of Teleopolis. Exhausting over $1.3 Trillion in public funds this project more than anything would eventually deliver to Mr. Emerald the sort of scrutiny that would lead to his eventual ousting. A full accounting of Teleopolis is far beyond the scope of this book, so we will only briefly cover its conception.

Although the incident that would famously deliver the FBI a geological basis for Teleopolis was still on the horizon and entirely unanticipated by planners, the idea was first floated in 2015. Emerald, returning to the east coast office after a "spritually significant journey" to Zion National Park in Utah, found at his disposal an agency jubilant with the unexpected success of his vaporwave project and eager for more. Emerald assembled a crack team of the nation's leading linguists, theologists, economists, semioticians, performance artists, ceramicists, poets, mythologists, and interdisciplinary scholars with a simple goal in mind: to construct a simulation capable of accepting a wide range of subjective perceptual inputs and synthesizing something that could be termed an "identity in space," a function that returns a state of knowledge which could be projected thousands or millions of years into the future or past for the purpose of gauging the long-term impact of his aesthetic projects.

By all accounts, Emerald's motivations entering into this project seem to be a sense of genuine urgency about the ambiguity of his own actions. Of course, such a device, if realized and proven to have any predictive value, could have helped the FBI hone the effectiveness of its interventions for good or ill. Even writing in the year 2055 we may not have enough perspective to judge the true impacts of a project like Teleopolis, though it is worth mentioning as an emblematic project of the 21st century that throws into relief the changing leadership strategies of American institutions across the nation.